Devastation is Not the End.

Life moves everywhere in time,

never ceasing its toil to reclaim the blasted land.

Dust will be soil.

Ashes will be a beginning.

Life is process.

Hear yourself speak.

Listen to the sound,

The music unwrapped in pieces

of broken thoughts put back together

in another mind.

It floats in the air, shattered.

I wonder, how do I speak wonder?

Is this room connected to the world?

I am trying to remember

how a puddle of water on a shiny leaf

looks like a piece of ice

in the sunshine of a rainy day.